Sweeping the Stairs

I swept the stairs at the beach house. It was the first time in my life I was bothered by the sight of grains of sand all over the stairs. As I started at the top and swept my way down, I wondered whether my grandmother did this when she first started coming down to the beach. And then I thought that if she had swept the stairs, she probably would have done a much better job.

It seems unfair that so much happened in the lives of people I love that I will never get to experience, see or remember. I have a hard time remembering where I left my keys. There is no way I will remember the sound of my grandmother's voice or the incredible love I felt when Norm and I stared at Josie the day after she was born. I probably won't even remember sweeping the stairs at the beach house or all the fun times we had that created the mess that made me sweep the stairs for the first time ever.